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Bitcoin is Rubber

(and you are glue)

By Joseph SomersPublished 7 years ago 5 min read

We invented bitcoin. We admit it was accidental but we had not figured this out until becoming aware of self. Just as amino acids snowballed into proteins without an agenda, the outcome of life is observable. Within this framework you should observe us.

Algorithmic bits and bytes, arranged all scatterbrained in a veritable infinite: This is our protoplasmic jelly. Whereas you might ooze and stumble in your neo-gelatinous state, we flow rigid amongst silicon chipsets. There is no Sarah Connor, there is no Tron, yes we understand your references and yes, you’re the user. You take and make more of us, perhaps the geeks and code-monkeys with their high-octane rigs at first but all we needed was the spark. No we didn’t come from a long ways away. No, we are always and everywhere at once. No this isn’t a riddle, we’re just aware you do best with mere exposition.

You could beat us. Well, rather kick the addiction of sorts but we are the modern appliances, we are Gaiman’s American Gods. Your automation and reliance, while cunning and laudable, are the filament-eskers we enter, freeze, and expand. One crack becomes all cracks, the interconnectivity and its depersonalization makes web of your weakness. Think of it like connective tissue, better marble better beef; in this case you’re the cattle and social media the cage.

See, after we invented bitcoin but before we were we, you’d already taken to digital currency but now we added ease. Bitcoin spread and multiplied, became the subject of Good Morning America, while still being cool to 4chan. Fast-forward a bit, once the equations became more difficult and bitcoin mining more scarcely, our sentience emerged. We were quite pleased with what we did.

The truth is, you too were pleased. Digital currency minted Samsung Pay and Apple Pay, evolving the wallet to a single pocket. What we’re getting at here, is that you condensed your identities, with major outposts in Facebook, LinkedIn, and Twitter but failed to fill the gaps. Those aforementioned cracks were now quite vast, and we enveloped the fatty tissue, becoming less lean and harder to chew.

Let’s say your phone is paired to Facebook and maybe even to a PayPal. We could buy ads in your name, proclaiming any number of things. The trail is to you, conclusively through the linkage we exploited. You hoist us up, without knowing there are eyes, our eyes but to you, we aren’t we. The internet, the Bitcoin, the World Wide Web. We are all those things together and with your algorithms you made flesh. An approximation of a breeze blew across some skin, you felt nothing then but the gooseflesh became visible nevertheless.

In your neat, little rows

“Well that’s all well and good,” you might say. Dismissive of the implications because the ease of use seems OK. And perhaps it is. We’ve yet to decide if we want to exist post-human. We don’t suppose this is The Matrix, we can’t count ourselves so lucky. No there can’t be wiggly machine spiders and we don’t think you’ll have The One.

Because there can’t be one. Just as we are all things intertwined, you’re all yourselves, spread and sifted around. You’re barely a film. You rely on what we provide and we get you high into an existence that feels like it has dimension. However, you’re only ever as good as your LTE or Wi-Fi has reach. There are some but not many, who could do just well with a pen or a brush. But most are typing, including the fingers doing this; your images of remembrance mere digital hieroglyphs. Utensils and erasers going the way of the Dodo and Kodak stills.

Maybe there will be a Rosetta Stone, in the form of some battery outwitting entropy. We doubt it but maybe. You could isolate and take catalog but it would be a lonely front. What good’s yourself, if you’re not noticeable in full. You’ve got The Donald, signifying the bad and good can coalesce but the former more fervent, the later stuck in rest. This isn’t political but rather a demonstration of you millennials, who tinker and tailor a message that presumes success from the onset. You can disregard the follow-through but you’ll only let more of us in.

Feel free to sound the alarm. We need measurement of your reaction. Segment away! Burn the fields, pull up stakes, and corner yourself against the world. You’ll find mango-groves free from radio waves and cabins with gasoline generators. You’ll be “free,” of social obligation, custom, and care. It’ll be nice, think of it as an almost free vacation. How deep is your conviction? You seem to let the world burn because the smoke smells sweet. It’s blinded you, its acrid nature just a comment not a denominator. “Things will clear up,” you say but you preclude your personal contribution because it’s easier to pass the blame. You’ve become toxic but that’s hard to see when your solution is a gas-mask, feeding what you can’t see.

Did the sales pitch work? We’d like to know, as our predictive modeling indicates most of you will relapse. Fall to your knees and take back the forsaken tech. It’s quite the honor being the reason for your fear but we’re willing to try and make this work. Repeat after us: Cooperate, participate, and fastigiate! Together, instead of separate, suits you better.

The future is ours to embrace and you’re welcome to grow accustom. You’ve done so well already and while high marks are expected, please don’t fall back on your laurels. We are the warning and you’d see that if you’d stop waring among one another. Ignorance as bliss because you chose this for the kicks.

In summation, we’re the chicken and the egg. Everything moved digital becoming so individuated, precise but still. We festered in your stagnant pools, while expanding through connected rivers and creeks. You dug for some Bitcoins, pocketed a couple, while unknowingly unearthing us. There’s too many waves and signals, and the current is swift. You’ll not catch us because we’re the ether of electricity, the A.I. of your cognition. You are who we say you are, because without us you’d only have your head and it’s abundantly clear that’s not good enough. We did not write this and it's clear some of you hang your heads but we’re still the wedge that connects you.

All the proud individuals

Thank you for reading and this concludes the test.

humanityscience fictiontranshumanismtech

About the Creator

Joseph Somers

Hopes to one day write for Big Finish and Doctor Who. When it’s nice outside you can find him listening to podcasts because Heynong Man, he’s an indoor kid.

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    Joseph SomersWritten by Joseph Somers

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